What a Year For a New Year
by Tres Mechante
Summary: “Is it next year yet? ’Cause I’ve pretty much had enough of the other one.”


**Title:** What a Year For a New Year

**Author:** Très Méchante

**Characters/Pairing: **Detective Don Flack, Detective Danny Messer; friendship

**Summary:** "Is it next year yet? 'Cause I've pretty much had enough of the other one."

**Rating: **Teen

**Spoilers:** (season 4) major for Child's Play; anything after that is also fair game

**Word Count:** approx. 1,860 words

**Warning:** A naughty word or two; angst

**Disclaimer:** Well, the story is mine, but the characters, most assuredly, are not.

**Archive:** Only with permission.

**Inspired by title: **"What a Year For a New Year" by Ben Folds

* * *

With a sigh of relief, Det. Don Flack pulled on his coat as he headed for the elevator, and almost ran into someone at the door.

He smiled at the harried-looking woman. "Hey, Lindsay, ready to call it a day?"

"You have no idea! I pulled so much overtime this week I can't even remember what my apartment looks like."

"I hear that. You and Danny have big plans tonight?" Don asked, holding open the elevator door for her.

"Well, I'm going to a party at a friend's place. I have no idea what Danny is doing."

Don frowned. "I thought – assumed – you and Danny would be ringing in the New Year together."

Lindsay sighed heavily. "That makes two of us. But he doesn't want to go. He said he just isn't 'in the mood' to party."

Don nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I can see where he'd want to avoid crowds right now. That whole thing with Ruben still has him really shook."

"I'll say." Lindsay buttoned her coat as they exited the building. "I just can't get through to him – it's just so frustrating. I don't even know what to say to him half the time, unless it's work related."

"It's not that complicated. He just needs to know someone's there for him, that he isn't alone."

"Well, he certainly seems to want to be alone. I told him he should go to the party. This would be such a great distraction for him, you know? Just kick back, have a few laughs – take his mind off that stuff. But no, he just wants to stay home." Lindsay squared her shoulders. "I've tried so hard to be there for him, but I get so frustrated around him these days and, honestly, I need a break from all that."

Don watched Lindsay walk away. She was a nice kid, but obviously didn't know how to handle the living contradiction that was Danny Messer.

A glance at his watch showed that he was in danger of running late, which would not put his date in a receptive mood for 'ringing in' the New Year, or anything else ever again. She'd made it pretty clear he was on probation after cancelling three dates in a row, even if it was due to his caseload.

The pounding on the door echoed through the hallway. "Yo, Messer! Open up! I know you're in there! C'mon, Danny, this stuff's getting heavy!"

Don had just begun considering whether a little B&E was in order, when the door swung open. He winced at the sight before him; Danny definitely looked the worse for wear.

Danny looked at Don in confusion as his friend brushed by him on the way into the apartment.

"Hey, man, get those bags, would you?" directed Don.

Danny grabbed the bags from the floor, kicked the door closed and followed him into the kitchen.

"What's all this stuff?"

"This 'stuff' as you call it is a sampling of Heaven on Earth." Don pulled out a variety of take-away cartons and foil-wrapped packages from the boxes he'd carried in. While Danny watched, Don turned on the oven and began searching cupboards for pots and pans.

Danny wandered closer, setting the bags he carried onto the counter. He started prying lids off containers but quickly drew back when Don used a spoon to rap his knuckles.

"Hey! What's that for?"

"Hands off."

"C'mon, Don. Aren't you gonna share?"

Don shooed Danny away. "When it's ready. You can set the table." He smirked when Danny grumbled but did what he was told.

They worked in companionable silence, until the food was ready.

Don dished up the food and served it with a flourish. He met his friend's skeptical look with determination. "Now, I know you prefer beer, but this really does need a proper wine," he said as he filled their glasses.

Danny just shook his head. "The things I do for friendship," he muttered, but then raised his glass. "To friends."

Don lightly Danny's glass with his own. "Friends."

"Hey, this isn't bad," said Danny after a sip.

"No bad? Geez, Danny, have I taught you nothing over the years?"

Danny just grinned, and looked over the feast before him. "So, this don't look like regular take-out."

"It isn't. It's from that new place near where we found that guy hanging – the one where the busboy was the perp."

Danny choked on his food. "You use crime scenes to scope out restaurants?"

"Hey, the place was highly rated for the food."

"Huh." Danny sampled another bite. "It's not bad."

"I'll be sure to pass on your high praise."

"I wouldn't think a place like that does take out," commented Danny.

"They don't. Not usually. But, see, the chef is a friend of a friend, so...you know."

"Nice." The rest of the meal was silent except for the occasional moan, grunt or murmur of appreciation over the food.

After dinner, piled their dishes in the sink and took their drinks to the sofa and settled in to watch the show leading up to the dropping of the ball at midnight.

Danny glanced at his friend. "Not that I'm not glad of the company or anything, but I thought you had a hot date with whats-her-name – Melody? Missy? Muffy?"

Don gave him a dirty look. "You mean Margaret?"

"Yeah, her."

Don shrugged. "It kind of fell through."

"Yeah? I thought you two were pretty tight."

"Yeah, well." Another shrug. Not for anything, was Don going to admit he'd broken their date so he could check up on his friend.

Danny reached over and patted Don's arm in sympathy.

During a lull in the entertainment, they headed back to the kitchen to fetch more drinks and some dessert. They settled back in front of the television just in time for some kind of year in review montage.

Don watched for a moment before commenting "It's sure been a hell of a year."

"You got that right. It can't be over fast enough for me," agreed Danny.

Don shot Danny a quick look at his tone of voice. "New year, new start," Don commented. "Kind of like a chance to start over."

"Yeah, well, not everything gets a do-over."

"Hey. You okay?"

"Sure. Yeah, I'm good. Just, you know...hell of a year."

Don said nothing, just faced the television while watching Danny out of the corner of his eye.

Danny fidgeted a bit. Without looking away from the show, he asked, "What about you? You got things you want to leave behind – you know New Year, new start and all?"

"A few things come to mind," he replied neutrally.

Danny didn't appear to be listening. "I just wish I could leave it, you know? I fall asleep, and I see it all happen. I hear the shots and I see Ruben go down. It just plays out over and over and that's just nuts, 'cause I didn't actually see it happen, you know?"

Don cautiously turned his head to look at Danny, but Danny's attention was fixed on something only he could see.

"Sometimes, I dream I'm at the funeral. And it's during Mass, and the coffin is there and suddenly he sits up, all covered in blood and he's looking at me, I mean, right at me. He's telling everyone – yelling – that all my fault, that I'm the one who killed him."

Danny suddenly jumped up. "Geez, I wish it was true – everything wiped away at the stroke of midnight. I mean, yeah, a do-over. I could, I could do that, yeah."

Don watched Danny pace and rant for a couple of minutes, waiting for Danny to wind down. When he showed no signs of calming, Don grabbed his arm on the next pass and tugged him back onto the sofa.

"Hey, come on. Settle down, Danny."

Danny glared at him. "Settle down? How? Damn it, Don, you never even answered my question."

"What question?" Don had the feeling he'd missed whatever train of thought Danny was on.

"How do I move on, man? How do I just...go on?" Danny's voice began to tremble. "A little kid is dead because of me!"

"Because you made a mistake, Danny – a damn mistake! You didn't pull the trigger."

Danny scoffed. "He's still dead, Don. He's still...oh, god, he's dead! He was just a little kid..." Danny's voice cracked on the last word.

Don was shocked to see Danny fall apart, doubled up as though in pain and head buried almost on his own lap. Don didn't know quite what to do when Danny began to tremble violently.

Tentatively, he reached over and laid a hand on Danny's shoulder, intending only to let his friend know he wasn't alone. He wasn't prepared to have Danny suddenly lean into him, body wracked by sobs, but did the only thing he could think of – wrapped his arms around his friend and hung on.

When the tears finally passed, Don was slouched in a corner of the sofa with a sniffling Danny resting against his chest.

Danny started to speak, coughed and tried again. "Sorry," he whispered.

"S'okay. I'm guessing you've been keeping stuff bottled up awhile."

"I guess." Danny sniffled again and lifted one hand to wipe at his eyes, although he did not move away from Don.

Don continued to rub soothing circles on Danny's back. "You gonna be okay?"

Danny nodded slightly. "Need a tissue, though."

Don looked around and spied the box well out of reach. "Well, you're gonna have to go get it since I can't reach that far. Either that, or let me up."

"Nah, I got it," said Danny just before he turned his head and wiped his nose on Don's shirt.

"Messer! Geez, now I'm gonna have to burn the shirt," complained Don. "You so owe me a new shirt."

"Put it on my tab." He sighed. "I just need a sec then I'll get up, 'kay?"

"Take your time, Danno." Don rested his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes, trying to give his friend a little privacy while he pulled himself together.

Don wasn't quite sure what woke him, but he was surprised that he'd fallen asleep. A glance at his watch showed he'd only been out for a short while. A glance down showed Danny still half sprawled across his chest in a position that Don steadfastly refused to call cuddling.

Before Don could work out how to move away without waking his friend, Danny spoke.

"Is it next year yet? 'Cause I've pretty much had enough of the other one."

"Yeah, buddy, last year is gone. They dropped the ball and everything."

"Damn, I missed it."

Don grabbed the remote control and flipped stations until he came to a countdown in another time zone. "That's the great thing about New Year – there's always another one."

"Cool," murmured Danny, clearly having no intention of moving any time soon.

They watched the countdown lazily, drained after the earlier emotional storm. When the streamers began to fall on the screen, Don absently patted Danny's shoulder. "Happy New year, buddy."

A soft snore was the response.

_**-end-**_


End file.
